


The Bad Date

by Raspberry_Blond



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Rey and Ben are siblings, Sort of a mystery story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24829576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raspberry_Blond/pseuds/Raspberry_Blond
Summary: Finn Storm and Rey Solo are on a bad date -- with each other. No big deal, mistakes happen. The thing is, they sort of continue happening even *after* the date ends.
Relationships: Finn/Rey (Star Wars)
Comments: 87
Kudos: 49





	1. What You Know About Me?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started working on this well before The Rise of Skywalker came out, as you'll probably be able to tell from some of the references. Then that shit happened in December and I went off this story and the other one I had going. That second one, Don't Tell Me The Odds, was ably continued and finished by Pan_2000. I was going to throw this one in the trash but a great friend (kanjiklubgottold) commissioned art of it for me, so I'm going to try. I still hate The Rise of Skywalker, Kylo Ren, Lucasfilm Limited, Disney, and Kathleen Kennedy with all my heart.
> 
> The chapter amount may increase or decrease depending on how I decide to end it. This is in the style of a mid-2000s romcom. Sort of. Rating is for later chapters. I welcome feedback, but if any reylo roaches start crawling, I will moderate comments.

The waiter seemed about to speak, but at the last minute, backed away from the table with a frozen smile and melted into the crush of the busy restaurant. His shoulders moved up and down in what was either a shrug or a sigh of relief before he was out of sight completely.

As Finn Storm watched the waiter disappear, he hid a grin. He’d been a server briefly during his senior year of high school and he felt a native sympathy. Veteran waitstaff could sniff out negative energy at five paces and it could poison an entire shift. It was like a bad smell that never quite went away, no matter how many windows were opened or how high the AC was cranked up.

Silently sending good vibes to the departing waiter, Finn tuned back into his current situation.

He was on a bad date.

A _very_ bad date.

From the moment he'd realized what he'd gotten himself into, Finn had tried to be philosophical about the whole thing. Maybe he should have expected it, even though the woman came as advertised: Pretty, intelligent, and with a dry wit that few people could successfully pull off without sounding douchey. That was _it_ , though. From the moment they’d sat down at the busy restaurant, his date's posture had been stiff and unwelcoming, her responses to his tentative questions one-note and monosyllabic, and her eyes—which were quite lovely and an unusual color—remote and cold. The only thing she _hadn’t_ done was pull out her phone and start scrolling.

He was mildly annoyed, but felt he had to shoulder some of the blame for the disaster of an evening. He could have just said no to Poe’s entreaties, but Rose had talked him into it. She’d said he’d been burying himself too much in school and needed to raise his head a little and _join the rest of the world_. It had been a little dramatic, but Finn acknowledged that he hadn’t been very social at all. Medical school was a grind, but the stats showed that most doctors met their significant others some time between med school and the end of residency, and he was already nearly at the exact halfway point of those two occurrences. But he’d truly given in after a few texts with his would-be companion yielded some common ground: They were both in their 20s, both preferred iced coffee to regular, and loved the Coruscant Circle Bar and Grill—where they were currently eating dinner and more or less ignoring each other.

Finn sighed softly and pushed at the lettuce on his plate, the tines of his fork making scraping sounds as he did so. He looked up, poised to apologize if the sound bothered her, but her head was bent over her plate and she seemed oblivious to anything except, apparently, a mound of potatoes and peas that had barely been touched.

Finn bit into the corner of his mouth and shrugged slightly. She probably couldn’t even hear anything over all the noise in the restaurant.

The problem with bad dates was that it was actually hard to know how to _end_ them. Finn had already decided that he would insist on paying for them both, but then what? Make random sounds of friendliness and beat it out the door as soon as he signed the credit card slip? This wasn’t just some random swipe right and dash, after all—this was a friend of friend. Not that he would have been rude to her in any case, but the fact that she was close to Poe made it essential to handle things with infinite care.

He cast a few quick glances around. It was pretty packed, and he felt a slight fear about being able to flag down their waiter to get the check and get out of there.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this busy in here.”

Finn looked at her in surprise. It was the longest thing she’d said directly to him since they’d met outside and she’d approached with the greeting: “Finn Storm, right? I’m Rey. Rey Solo.”

“I’m usually only here in the mornings or mid-afternoons,” said Finn. “It’s basically empty then.”

“Really? I think I’ve only come on nights _not_ Fridays.” Her voice had plush, accented tones that Finn strained to hear over the noise of the crowd. “I usually just sit at the bar. I don’t really notice any of the other people around.”

Finn didn’t find himself very surprised at that. Rey seemed like the type of woman who could ignore a nuclear blast if she wanted.

“What’s the attraction of this place in the daytime?” She drank from a sweating water glass. “Other than having the place to yourself?”

“That’s pretty much it. I get a plate of fries, a Hoth City chilled in the bottle, and sit in a booth, studying. It’s quieter here than the library on campus sometimes.”

“Convenient.”

Finn nodded. “Yeah ... yeah, I guess it is.”

Another lull in the conversation hit. Finn tried to look very interested in his glass of water.

“Poe told me that you’re about to graduate medical school,” she said after a moment. “Do people call you Doctor Finn?”

He half-smiled. “Nah, nobody does unless they’re being sarcastic or something. But I’ll be a doctor, technically, in exactly 57 days.”

“ _Technically_?”

“Well, I’ve got a residency to do. That starts in July and it’s gonna be three years. I’ve got to take the last part of the Boards after my first year in residency,” he said, contemplating the melting ice in his own water glass. “I want to be a pediatric cardiologist, so after residency, I have to do a cardiology fellowship, and _that’s_ at least three more years. So, yeah, when I graduate, I’ll have an MD, and I’ll be Dr. Finn Storm, but I still feel like I have a long way to go.”

He wondered what prompted Rey to be interested in his studies. She didn’t seem like the type who’d be starry-eyed over a medical student.

“Poe said that you’re majoring in engineering?” Finn hoped they could keep the flow of conversation going. Their waiter was nowhere to be seen. “That’s awesome—my first roommate in undergrad is a chemical engineer at—”

“—I studied engineering for three semesters at Coruscant Circle U.” Her voice was chilly. “I don’t really do much of anything now except sit on my ass while my brother pays my bills.”

Finn gulped quietly. _O … kay then._

Silence once again descended, and she was again not looking at him. Finn desperately searched for their waiter. _A_ waiter. _Any_ waiter.

A flood of relief washed over him when he spotted their waiter on the other side of a knot of people, taking the order of customers at an unseen table. When the man looked around, Finn waved his arm as if trying to signal help from Mars.

The man hesitated a moment then walked over.

“Yes, sir? Can I get either of you anything else? Dessert, some coffee …?”

“Just the check,” said Finn in a rush. “Please,” he added, when he noticed Rey glance at him with a slightly bemused expression.

“Dinner’s on me, by the way,” Finn said to Rey, trying for a smile he hoped didn’t spell out how much he was looking forward to ending the evening. “I insist.”

She shrugged lightly. “I’m not going to argue with you.”

Finn let out a breath and sat tensely waiting for the waiter to return. He was somewhat concerned about how to massage what he’d say to Poe later. He didn’t want Poe to think he blamed him—entirely—for this debacle of an evening, but he also wanted to make it clear to Poe that if he had any further desires to set him up with anyone, that he should keep them locked away in the same place he stored his views about pineapple on pizza and the _Cats_ movie.

Rey pushed her chair back and stood. “I’ll be right back. Bathroom break. Sorry if TMI.”

She barely waited for him to acknowledge her words before moving off to be swallowed up by the throng.

Finn watched her go, his scalp tingling with an odd premonition.

Rey was going to ditch him. He was sure of it.

The “bathroom visit” was a bad-date trick used since time immemorial. He’d confirmed that he was paying for the meal, so why would she even stick around?

Finn leaned back in his chair, assessing the situation. Here he’d been worrying about how to make a graceful exit, and Rey had solved the issue for both of them. It had the bonus of being such an asshole move that Poe probably wouldn’t even mention her name to him again, so _two_ problems solved.

“Sir?”

Finn looked up, startled. The waiter had returned and he looked a bit worried.

“I’m sorry, but our point-of-sale system is down. It should be fixed momentarily, but it might take awhile. Please have a cappuccino or an espresso, on the house, for the inconvenience.”

Finn shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. Shit happens.”

“Tell me about it. This is the third time this happened in the past two months.” The waiter’s face was grim. “My boss is seriously considering going cash-only because it’s been such a hassle. You sure? Dessert or anything? Seriously, it’s free.”

“I’m good, thanks. Whenever the system’s back up, I’ll just take the check.”

The waiter’s eyes shifted briefly to the empty chair.

“Um … maybe your companion would like a cup of something when she gets back?”

The careful tone made Finn smile, though by the stunned expression of the young waiter’s face, he had to assume that his smile looked more like an opening in the face with a flash of teeth.

“I doubt it. Just between us, I don’t think my … ‘companion’ is coming back.”

The waiter’s face creased in sympathetic understanding.

“First date?”

“And last.”

“Yikes. Sorry about that. Dating app?”

“Nope. Blind date, kinda. Fixed up by a mutual friend.”

“Wow.” The waiter looked awed. “That’s supposed to not suck as much.”

Finn was still laughing when the waiter walked away to check on whether things were back up and running. He swirled the remains of his water around his glass and brought it to his lips to down it in one final gulp. What was there to do but laugh? It was one night out of his life. He’d forget this ever happened and move on, no big deal …

“There’s a line a mile long, so I’ll just wait until I’m home. Has the check come yet?”

Finn had nearly started choking with the first words, and painfully managed to swallow as Rey, having returned, stared down at him in mild alarm.

“You okay?”

Finn was more amazed that she seemed to just _manifest_ before him than that she was there at all. He’d had it so fixed in his head that she’d left that her appearance had thrown him for a loop. Only his mild choking predicament had kept him from blurting out, “What are you still doing here?”

“Uh, yeah. You, uh, just caught me off guard there.”

He coughed a little as she settled back into her chair, ignoring the fleeting look of incomprehension she gave him.

“The waiter was just here. They’re having a problem with their payment system and it might be awhile. He offered a free coffee or whatever, but I didn’t think you’d be into that—it being hot coffee and not iced.”

The waiter sidled up at that moment, and Finn cringed as the young man’s eyes widened at the sight of Rey. To his credit, his face almost immediately shifted to the neutral mask of the polite worker angling for a good tip. With that recovery, Finn decided the guy damned sure was going to get one.

“I’m sorry, but our system is completely locked.” He addressed his words to Finn but gave a bland smile that encompassed them both. “It will have to be rebooted and that could take up to 45 minutes …”

Finn met Rey’s eyes and saw the horror reflected there that mirrored his own. Forty-five more minutes of nonexistent conversation and half-hearted people-watching? _No_!

“… So, to make up for the inconvenience, my manager insisted that we comp your entire bill.”

Their eyes met again. Finn saw slight amusement in Rey’s face, inclining her head in a gesture that could have meant ‘they’d better’ or maybe ‘not bad.’

As the man started to turn away, Finn stopped him with a gesture. Taking out his wallet, Finn peeled off a $20.

“This is for you. Thanks for the great service.”

The waiter beamed, bobbing his head in startled pleasure.

“Thank _you,_ sir.” He flashed another smile. “You two have a good evening.”

The last bit sounded rather wistful. Out of the corner of his eye, Finn saw the waiter give Rey a somewhat speculative look before walking away, pocketing the money.

“That was nice of you.” Rey was shrugging into her jacket. “Most people wouldn’t have given anything.”

“Yeah, well, it’s least I can do. None of this was his fault,” muttered Finn as he stood. He thought of some of the incidents in which he’d run himself ragged and had been stiffed on a tip.

Rey shot him a cool, almost rueful glance. Finn wondered if _she_ were wondering whether he was talking about the payment systems malfunction or the date itself. He supposed it didn’t matter either way.

They walked out into the night. Finn took a cleansing breath, glad to be out of the stifling atmosphere. He’d decided he’d go easy on Poe for this one. He’d meant well, obviously. No use chewing him out over something that didn’t work out. Besides, after this, maybe he’d never even see Rey Solo again, so why rock the boat and create tension between Poe and this girl, who he’d said was a friend of his family and he’d known since she was a child.

He turned toward her, not smiling, not offering his hand.

“Can I, uh, get a cab for you or are you okay on your own?”

He thought about suggesting they split an Uber, but quickly decided against that when he caught the glower that was starting to become clear on her face.

Rey tilted her head, studying him silently for a moment. She sighed rather heavily and folded her arms tightly across her chest.

“ _Wow_. So you’re _really_ going to bang on with this?”

Her voice was like a sharp smack to the cheek. Finn took a step backward, the change in her voice startling him.

“Uh ... what?”

“No offense, but you’re not really good at acting,” she said. “You can drop the pretense, and just come clean about it. I can hardly believe you tried to keep this up all night.”

Finn frowned, regaining a little of his equilibrium in the face of her hard-eyed stare.

“... I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was tight, which strained some of the bewilderment from it. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a good time. It wasn’t amazing for me either. But good news: You’re not going to have to worry about me texting you again—”

“—It’s no good, dude. Just fess up to it already, don’t be a dick.”

Finn let out a sound that was less the chuckle it was supposed to be and more like the noise a person would make after getting kicked in the stomach. Was he in the _Twilight Zone_ where nothing at all made sense? He was trying to extricate himself from a bad date and now they were arguing about ... something?

He recovered from the shock and faced her squarely, eyes narrow.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” His words had icicles in them. “You don’t even know me like that, so watch your mouth.”

He was sure that Rey would flounce off then with a few more choice words for him, but she planted her feet firmly on the sidewalk as if she meant to stay there forever.

“Oh, my _apologies_. Don’t be a _jerk_ then. Better?”

“Nope.” He set his teeth hard. “But you know what? I really don’t give a fuck. Good _night_.”

He turned away, deciding he’d just walk home. Screw waiting for a taxi.

“Hey! _Wait a minute_! I’m not going to get mad. You _tried_ at least.” She flung the words imperiously at his back. “I’m not even going to get _too_ pissed at Poe, even though he promised me. I’m going to assume that he just couldn’t help himself.”

Finn didn’t want to stop, but the mention of Poe made him do a slight stutter step. What was with her anger when mentioning Poe? He was her friend, too, wasn’t he? _An old family friend._

Against his better judgment, he turned around, but kept a healthy distance. People were walking by and glancing at them in a way that made Finn feel extremely conspicuous. He wasn’t blind to how bad it might look to passersby—a tallish, dark-skinned dude arguing with a modelesque, young white woman? Coruscant Circle was a pretty liberal place, but the world was still the world, unfortunately.

“Like I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in a quieter voice. “I also don’t know what you mean about Poe. Promised what? Help himself about _what_?”

“Telling you about me.” She glared at him. “Are you seriously going to look me in the face and tell me he _didn’t_ tell you about me?”

“Uh ... yeah, o _f course_ he told me about you.” Finn was perplexed by the vitriol and he wondered if _he_ might need to start looking for an escape route soon. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t.”

“I knew it! Just _what_ is it he said? You might as well get it all out in the open.”

He paused a moment. “Well, he told me your age ... that you live over in the Ikatarri Townhomes ... that you like iced coffee ...”

Rey’s forehead wrinkled slightly. Finn thought that her eyes seemed a little less slate-y.

“Go on ...”

“Poe said you were an engineer. He got that wrong, obviously.” Finn shrugged slightly. “Oh, and that you have an older brother, and that the two of them never really got along even though his dad and your parents wanted them to be, like, best friends.”

He fell into silence. The wrinkles in Rey’s forehead deepened.

“ _And_ ...?”

“ _And_ that’s _it_.” Finn held up his hands. “Other than that you were single and he thought we might hit it off. I said I’d get back to him. My roommate said I should go for it, and I decided what the hell. I called Poe back and told him that if he was sure you were okay with me having your number, I’d text you and see if it made sense for us to hang out sometime.”

Rey Solo drew herself up to her full height, which was an inch or so below Finn’s chin, as she was wearing heels. Her eyes darted over his face for several disquieting seconds.

“That’s _all_ he told you?”

“That’s _all_.” Finn’s voice was puzzled. “Why? What do you _think_ he told me?”

Some odd emotion flickered in her eyes, but it was gone before Finn had the opportunity to register what emotion it could have been.

“You ... you’re serious." Her eyes were locked to his. "You’re telling the truth.”

Finn felt a flash of anger. “I _told_ you, he only said—”

“No.” She sounded pained. “It’s a statement, not a question. I... I can tell you’re not lying. He really _didn’t_ say ... he didn’t talk about ...”

Rey moved under a streetlight, and Finn’s eyes widened. She looked pale as milk and her lips almost looked blue under the harsh yellow glare. His mild anger turned into concern and he took a step toward her. Rey looked as if she were about to faint.

“Hey, are you all right?”

“I thought ... I’ve been a complete _asshole_ because I _thought_...”

Rey bit her lip, sliding into silence. She reached out a hand to steady herself using the lamppost and Finn could see she was taking deep breaths. His alarm grew. Finn was intimately familiar with the signs of a panic attack and from the looks of it, Rey was in the grips of a full-fledged one.

“I thought that Poe ... I was _sure_ that Poe said ...”

She made a gesture with her hand as if to cut herself off from talking, and her lips pressed so tightly together that they looked white.

“It’s cool. No worries.” Finn’s was careful not to sound patronizing. She really did look like she’d seen a ghost. “I’ll get you a cab or an Uber or something. Whatever you want—”

"—I’m okay. I just ... look, you can totally say no, and after how I’ve treated you, I wouldn’t blame you.” She was speaking quickly. “But would you ... could we get a drink somewhere? I’d like to at least have the chance to explain why I’ve been a total bitch to you all night. And to be honest, I could use something strong in my system right now.”

Finn was partly confused, partly intrigued. Rey had unbent enough that he could see contrition all over her face. Still, he wasn’t quite sure what was going on. They’d had a shitty date. It was unfortunate, but those things happened sometimes. _Then_ they’d had some bizarre argument over something he didn’t understand, and now it seemed that things had gone wrong because Rey thought _Poe_ had imparted some information she didn’t want known. And _now_ she wanted to get drinks somewhere? The fuck?

Maybe it was just as well to decline and go home, Finn thought with smothered sigh. There was no real evidence that without whatever misunderstanding had taken place that they would have clicked anyway, so it might be best to just call it a night. And he was tired ...

But Rey looked more than apologetic ... she looked almost ... _haunted_?

Finn struggled for a moment with the warring sentiments flitting into and out of his brain. Curiosity won out.

“Sure. We could go to The Mandalorian’s Covert over on Nevarro Road,” he said. “It’s Saturday night, but even when it’s busy, it manages to be pretty quiet in there and whatever they have on tap is usually good."

She looked interested. “I’ve heard of it, but don’t you need a password to get in?”

“Yep.” Finn grinned conspiratorially. “Good thing I have the current ones. C’mon.”

He refrained himself from offering her his arm. She looked a little shaky still, but he wasn’t sure how she’d take that. Besides, The Covert was only a couple blocks away.

Nevertheless, on the walk there, Finn watched her out of the corner of his eye. Just in case.


	2. At The Covert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Rey get some strong drinks at one of the most exclusive bars in town and have a chat. But what do Pilates have to do with anything?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably one of the chapters where you can most tell I wrote it before the abomination that is Episode IX was released. I was obsessed with The Mandalorian and just ...aghhgh. Also this will be one of the shortest chapters in the story. I broke the story up where it seemed natural, regardless of length, but just so you know, most chapters (excluding this one) will be a little lengthy.
> 
> I appreciate the feedback from the first chapter and also thanks to those who reblogged Hippano's amazing 'movie poster' for this story (It can be seen on my tumblr at leg-grestrade for those curious). I also appreciate that quite a few people feel as I do about the horror show that was the ninth installment of the Star Wars saga. Shame on Lucasfilm. Shame on them!

Finn’s last visit to The Mandalorian’s Covert occurred about a year earlier when someone in his rotation decided to have a pseudo pub-crawl that had ended there. During his two first years in med school, however, he’d come often—generally by himself—enjoying the relative quiet and darkness, because somehow, even if you were alone, you felt as if you were part of the crowd.

He was thinking about his previous visits to The Covert as he and Rey headed that way. There had been no conversation during the short walk, which been something of a relief to Finn. It had given his thoughts a chance to roam. The night was certainly not going as planned, but that it had moved away from being the dire farce itwas even a half-hour before had his head in something of a muddle.

Finn still couldn’t account for Rey’s seeming about-face in her attitude toward him, but the dullness in his stomach that had settled in and made itself at home at the start of their date had all but disappeared. In its place was a vague stirring of anticipation, and he found himself intrigued by what was to come. However, the news wasn’t _all_ good. The pedantic part of his brain whispered that whatever Rey Solo wanted to discuss might only explain—not eliminate—nearly three hours of discomfort, boredom, and pointed silence.

Thus, he was still _technically_ on a bad date. That classification might change pending the outcome of their discussion, but their previous interactions couldn’t simply be erased just because they were changing venues.

A sharp right off the main drag took them onto Nevarro Road, a street half in shadow, and about as quiet as one of those towers of silence in fairy tales and comic books. They went halfway down the block to a stoop lit rather poorly overhead by a single yellowish. Beyond the gloom, a person could just make out a set of stairs that led down to a subterranean entrance.

Finn offered his hand to Rey to help her navigate the somewhat narrow stairs. She accepted, letting him guide her down into the gloom. He knew from experience that after the first few stairs, it would be as if the darkness had swallowed them up, and Finn was slightly surprised that after their previous interactions, she’d opt to trust him so completely now. But, he figured, it was a choice between taking his hand or possibly tripping and knocking her brains out at the bottom of the stairs. Rey Solo might be a lot of things, but stupid didn’t appear to be one of them.

When they’d reached bottom, they were forced to come to a rather abrupt stop in front of a wooden door. Finn raised a heavy copper-colored knocker and let it fall—just once. The sound wasn’t as loud as it seemed it should have been, but Finn knew from experience that it echoed throughout a small sort of closet just beyond the door where a sentry sat, ready to give entrance or send people on their way.

After a second, an aperture appeared in the solid wood. It was too dark to see anything, but a rough, deep voice crackled out as if coming over a loudspeaker.

“If entrance desired, give the word. Else, depart.”

Finn didn’t recognize the voice, and he was slightly nervous suddenly. He’d gotten to be decent friends with some of the staff at The Covert, and he had a good memory for voices. Maybe someone was sick.

Finn cleared his throat. “ _Green Bean_.”

There was a pause. Then the door opened slowly and a figure wearing a short cape and a silver helmet that seemed to throw off sparks stepped out into the half-light. The helmet covered the entire face, leaving only a small, T-shaped strip that exposed bright blue eyes and the edges of a bristly red beard.

“This is the way ...” The gatekeeper stood aside and gestured toward yet another set of stairs in near-darkness behind him. “... Inside.”

Finn moved first, feeling for the bannister, with Rey holding onto his elbow. Belatedly, he remembered that there was an elevator on the other side of the building that they could have taken. The elevator was often in use at toward closing time, getting patrons back to street level after a night of a hard drinking. Also, around this time, the floor of the elevator usually was sticky with spilt liquor and o _ther_ fluids, so it was likely just as well.

When they’d fully descended, they then had to travel through a small vestibule before emerging into a space that looked very much like an underground cavern. Recessed lighting bathed the entire area in a cold light like the glint off polished steel. People sat in groups around said tables and on leathery banquettes in booths against the wall while waitstaff in metal helmets, chestplates and greaves walked around soundlessly, balancing trays of intriguing-looking food and drink on their shoulders.

No one paid attention to them as they stood to the side, gawking in appreciation. Finn took a deep breath and let it out in a happy gust, soaking up the atmosphere as if it were his first time there. For him, he could visit the place every day or once every 10 years. Walking into the cavern and seeing everything laid out as it was would never get old.

Rey made an impressed sound.

“So _this_ is The Mandalorian’s Covert? It seems so ... so ...”

“Gloomy? Imposing?”

“Metal.” Rey nodded toward the bar, which was fashioned of out wrought iron and shone silver under the blueish lights. “ _Extremely_ metal.”

“Yeah, it’s that kind of place. Sort of modeled after a forge.”

Finn looked around, spotting an empty booth with bench seating.

“We can seat ourselves. Is over there okay? Or would you rather sit at the bar? You know, close to the ‘action,’ and all?”

“No, a booth’s perfect. I’d rather not ... uh, be so out in the open.” She glanced around. “I’m glad the place is pretty dark, actually. Good choice.”

They chose a booth about equidistant from the steps and the lavatories at the back. As they got settled, Finn thought Rey looked more at ease than she had at any time that evening. Strange that she would be more at ease in an underground bar in the dark. But he waved the thought away.

“I can order for us at the bar. What would you like?”

Etched on the table was a dimly lit menu that listed specialities of the house and a list of nibbles and more substantial foods like burgers and wraps. Rey ran a finger down the illuminated words, her lips moving silently. After a second, her finger stopped.

“The Spotchka Spritz sounds interesting.”

“Yeah, that’s one of their specialties. Okay then, be right back.”

Finn headed to the bar, relieved that there wasn’t a large crowd waiting for service. The helmeted bartender looked up as he approached. The aperture in the mask showed a wedge of light-brown skin, bright green eyes, and a nose with a livid scar bisecting the bridge. Blonde-tipped locs hung neatly from under the helmet and the cape was purple edged in black.

“Well if it isn’t Finn Storm!”

The barkeep drew out his last name teasingly in a melodically husky voice that sounded like it belonged to the heroine in an old film noir.

“I see you took my advice about twisting your hair, huh? Looks good! Figures that when I finally decide not to hook up with customers, you start getting all fine on me. How’ve you been?”

“ _Yarra_? What the hell are _you_ doing here?” Finn was stunned, but pleased. “Somebody told me you’d quit.”

“Wouldn’t say I _quit_. I took a sabbatical, kinda. Still trying to do my music,” she said with a lopsided grin. “But nobody can mix a Jedha Mudslide like me, so I decided to take pity on ‘em and help out when I can.”

“Well, it’s good to see a familiar face.” Finn looked toward the stairs that led up to the entrance. “I expected Nave at the door. I don't think I've ever seen dude who's up there now before, and I don’t recognize any of the servers.”

“Shit, it _has_ been awhile since you’ve been in here. Nave’s in pharmacy school now. We’re too low-brow for him. That’ll be _you_ soon, too, Mr. Doctor-in-Waiting. I didn’t even think you were in the Discord group for the passwords anymore.”

Finn scoffed. “I never forget old friends, and I’m never going to be fancy like _that._ ”

“Mmmhmm. That’s what they _all_ say.” Her gaze shifted to a point over his shoulder. “Speaking of friends, who’s yours? Don’t think I’ve ever seen her in here before.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Probably not. She’s not exactly a _friend._ Um ... we’re on a date, actually.”

“A _date_?” Yarra’s eyes widened noticeably behind the shallow strip of her mask. “Word?”

“Yeah, we’re having sort of a ... nightcap, I guess you could say.”

“Trying to impress her by bringing her here?” The teasing lilt was back. “You must _really_ like her.”

“Uh ...” Finn glanced away. “Not so sure about that—yet. Anyway, let me get a Spotchka Spritz and a Beskar Ale.”

“Got it. I’ll get someone to bring these over. Get back to your date.” The eyes traveled over his shoulder again. “She’s _cute_. If it doesn’t work out, give her my number. Uli and I stopped seeing each other a while back, though we hook up every now and again. You know, for old time’s sake and stress relief.”

“Stress relief? _Seriously_?” One edge of Finn’s mouth lifted into a smirk. “ _That’s_ how you classify regularly messing around with your ex?”

“Sure. Beats doing Pilates.”

Finn just managed to not roll his eyes. “You’re such a romantic.”

Yarra grinned before he walked off, cheerfully responding that a certain part of her anatomy couldn’t very well lick itself, now could it? Finn clamped his lips together, having to turn away before he laughed in the face of an astonished customer who’d overheard that part of the conversation and had nearly dropped his mug on the floor.

“Sorry about the wait.” Finn gave Rey an apologetic smile as he slid back in opposite her. “They’ll bring the drinks over.”

“That’s fine. Are you friends with the bartender?” Rey gave a swift glance in that direction. “I saw her smiling at you. You know, as if she knew you. And it looked like you were joking about something.”

Finn wasn’t sure, but there was something almost like envy tinging Rey’s words. That made no sense to him, however. He figured he just must be hearing things.

“Uh, yeah, I do. Her name’s Yarra. She used to live in my building. She’s the one who told me about this place and got me on the list to get the current passwords. She moved out a while back, and we haven’t seen each other in a minute. We were just catching up.”

“Oh, nice." Her shoulders relaxed noticeably. "Knowing an insider is always cool.”

Rey tilted her head back, studying the patterned, topaz-colored ceiling. “I like it here. It’s exclusive, but not in a stupid way, if that makes sense? And it’s stylish. I like the helmets and the capes.”

“Me, too,” said Finn. “I asked them once to make me an honorary member of the Covert, but they just ignored me. I guess they don't think I can pull off the armor.”

Rey laughed softly, and Finn was stunned. It was the first time Rey had cracked anything close to a genuine smile the entire night. It had been sneers and side-eyes and false, fleeting grins until that moment.

Before he could ruminate more on that turn of events, someone in a dark helmet with a matching breastplate loomed over them to long enough to drop off a fizzing green liquid in a bowl-shaped glass and a foaming beer in a squat pewter mug.

There was a tidy silence for a time while they sipped their drinks. Rey pronounced hers “delicious, and slightly tickly in a good way.” Finn thought his beer was a little more bitter than he remembered, but it got the job done.

“Before I launch into my sob story, can I ask you how you know Poe?” asked Rey. “I mean, how did you meet him, if you don’t mind telling me? Just curious. He didn't go into detail, and you're so much younger than he is that I'm just wondering if you grew up in the same neighborhood or something.”

Finn wiped foam off his lip. He filed away the _sob story_ description for future reference, wondering just what was going on. He couldn’t quite imagine what she’d have to say that would require that sort of disclaimer.

... Well, he _could_ , but the top five possibilities that immediately presented themselves were a bit off the wall, and jail time would have been necessary for at least three of them.

“Well, I went to U of Yavin for undergrad,” said Finn. “Poe had gotten his master’s degree there a few years earlier and he was working in the UY propulsion labs. He had friends who were RAs in my dorm complex, and so I saw him around a lot, but we never talked or anything. But one day, I watched him demolish some guy at table tennis, and I wanted to see how he’d measure up against me. I’d been in some low-level tournaments back home. Nothing fancy, but I was pretty good, and Poe seemed like he could hold his own. The next time I saw him in my complex, I walked up to him, introduced myself, and challenged him to a match. I was pretty sure he'd blow me off. I mean, I was just some random freshman and he was a dude nearly 30, with two degrees and a high-level job. But he was completely up for it.”

Finn grinned at the memory. “That first game we played was pretty much a draw, but neither of us had faced that level of competition before in a ‘friendly’ game. It was fun, and we decided on a rematch, and it just went from there. We met up almost every day and would be in the rec room sometimes for hours. Eventually, people would see us at the table and go somewhere else, because they knew we’d be there a while. It was sort of my main form of exercise—”

He broke off when a long shadow fell over the table. Yarra herself was there, dropping off a plate piled high with pillow-shaped, fried objects. A dark-red dipping sauce hung precariously on the side.

“Sorgan Squares, on the house.” Yarra was giving Rey a smile that Finn could only classify as ‘slide into my DMs sometime.’ “Enjoy.”

Thanking her, but not seeming to notice the flirty undertone, Rey eagerly dug in, and seemed very taken by the crunchy snacks. Melted cheese oozed out beneath the crust, and Finn had to admit they was more appetizing than the dinner they’d had, ruefully realizing that he couldn’t even remember what he’d ordered.

“—Anyway, Poe and I became really good friends.” Finn resumed his tale. “My senior year, he left the propulsion labs and moved here for work. When I got into Coruscant Circle U’s med school, he let me crash with him until I could navigate the city and find a place to live.”

“So you must know Tam, too?" asked Rey. "His wife?”

“ _Know_ her?” Finn laughed quietly. “I introduced her and Poe to each other! I was the best man at their wedding.”

“Really?” Rey smiled slightly at him over the rim of her glass. “So is this date Poe trying to return the favor?”

“Uh ...” Finn’s laughter degenerated into a series of uneasy chuckles. “... I don’t think Poe was, um, keeping score or anything.”

“Mmhm.” Rey didn’t exactly sound convinced. “So you see a lot of Poe these days, then? Still stoking that table tennis rivalry?”

“Ha, I wish. No, we generally haven't had a bunch of time to hang out, but I’m usually over at his and Tam's every few weeks for Sunday dinner. Well, me and Rose are.”

“Rose?” There was a puzzled note in her voice.

“Yeah, my roommate. Her sister Paige is one of Poe’s best friends.”

Rey sat up very straight. “Do you mean Paige Tico?”

“Yeah—you know her?”

“Of course!” Rey looked astonished. “I didn’t know _you_ knew her, too. She’s great. I’d heard she had a sister but I’ve never met her. Is she older or younger than you?”

“We’re both 26,” said Finn slowly, wondering how Rey could “of course” know Paige. Through Poe? That seemed the likeliest answer, but he would have thought Poe would have mentioned something to that effect. Rose, on the other hand, would not have, because Finn had opted to give her the bare minimum info about his upcoming date. Rose had been fine with that—apparently secure in the knowledge that he’d spill his guts to her later.

“Rose came out here when she got a job at the Coruscant Circle U Arena after graduating from Hoth Tech,” said Finn. “She builds the stages for concerts and other events like WrestlePlex and the Floating Circus, designs all the hydraulics, and does maintenance for them.”

“That’s pretty hardcore _and_ awesome. Mechanical expertise must run in the family.” Rey’s eyes registered interest. “Is that where you and Rose met? The Arena?”

Finn noted Rey’s comment about the Ticos and “mechanical expertise,” and shallow lines etched themselves into his forehead. It was unendingly strange to him that she’d know Paige and know of Rose’s existence but not know Rose herself—particularly since Rose was much closer in age to Rey than Paige. Very odd indeed.

“Nah. I’d met Paige a few times through Poe, and I knew she had a younger sister who lived with her, but every time I chilled at their house, Rose was at work,” he said. “After I'd had a chance to look around a bit, I got an apartment in Tibrin Triangle—close enough to the university without actually having to be there and navigate the zoo of on-campus housing, drunk underclassmen, and prospective-student tours. But when my old roommate washed out of med school, I was sort of in a bad spot. I couldn’t afford the place by myself, but I didn’t really want to move. I was talking about it one night when I was at Poe and Tam’s for Sunday dinner. Rose was there—it was the first time I’d met her in person. She said she loved the Triangle area and that if I was really serious about needing a roommate, she’d be interested in checking out my apartment. She and Paige love each other to death, but I think they were getting on each other’s nerves a little bit, living together. I was fine with the idea. Rose came out to see the place a few days later, and that was that. She moved in, like, the next day.”

Rey mulled that for a moment, toying with the edge of a Sorgan Square. 

"Having a woman as a roommate ... does that ever get ... _weird_? Or, er, inconvenient?”

“Nope. We know how to give each other space, and it really works for us. Plus, she’s a lot better with Jabba than my old roommate ever was.”

An eyebrow quirked. “And Jabba is ...?”

“My cat.” Finn grinned wryly, thinking of the chocolate-colored puddle of fur that even now was likely stretched across his bed like he owned it. "Fat, spoiled, sneaky little bastard."

His voice held a caressing note despite the harsh words. He loved that little dumbass with all his heart.

Rey turned her face toward him, her eyes shining with a peculiar light.

“You have a _cat_? Poe didn’t mention that! Did you inherit him from someone? You know, too softhearted to call the pound, or worse, put the poor thing outside?”

“Oh, _hell_ no.” Finn shuddered at the thought. “This was a conscious decision. I adopted Jabba my first year in med school. He’s brown, big, and loves to just sleep and eat. His left hind leg is a little twisted, but despite that and his size, he can move like lightening when he wants to. Usually he only _wants_ to when I’m opening a can of something.”

Finn squirmed a bit. Rey was looking at him a bit strangely, and he couldn't account for that. He hoped she wasn't one of those "a **real** man can't like cats" people, because if so, game over. Jabba was non-negotiable, and anyway, people with that sort of retrograde attitude always proved to be complete douchebags.

“Do _you_ like cats?” 

“I do! But I travel a lot, and I don't think that'd be fair to a pet, me being gone so much. I wish I'd had a cat growing up, though.” Her face turned wistful. “For my sixth birthday, I was actually supposed to get a kitten, but ...”

She paused. Finn peered at her, wondering at the expression that had stolen across her face. It seemed a sequel to the haunted look she’d worn outside the restaurant at the climax of their argument. A sudden chill between them seemed to spring up, making Finn's teeth ache a bit. Or it could have been the beer mug.

Finn didn’t like the silence, or the way Rey’s lips were tugging downward. It made her face look drawn and unhappy. It was an expression he’d not seen, even back at the Coruscant Circle Grill. All things considered, he preferred her sneering or looking annoyed to _this_ expression.

“Did your parents change their minds?”

“No.” Rey shook herself out of it. “They were actually as excited as I was. We were looking at pictures online and everything.”

“Then why didn’t you get your kitten?”

Rey took a hearty quaff of her drink, studied the inside of the glass for a few seconds, then fixed him with an unblinking stare.

“I got kidnapped.”


	3. Ren and Rey Save the Day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More drinks, more fried cheese ... and Finn makes a startling discovery. Okay, not just one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this I hear about the sequel trilogy being decanonized? I don't buy it. That would require someone at Lucasfilm to have a working brain, and we all know how likely that is. Also I heard Finn got another disappointing comic? Shocking. Just shocking. :|
> 
> Thanks as always for reading, and thanks to everyone who has been kudo-ing and commenting!

Finn stared uncomprehendingly for a moment. Rey was looking at him with quiet expectation, her eyes fixed on his.

“Sorry ... _what_?”

“I was kidnapped when I was five.” Rey made a fluttering gesture with one hand. “So I sort of missed out on the birthday kitten thing.”

She broke eye contact to gaze into her glass again.

“Hmm, I think I need a top-off. You?”

Finn gave himself a mental shake. He wasn’t much of a drinker. Two, maybe three beers were generally his limit, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be sloshed for a conversation that his instincts told him had the potential to become heavy. But he pegged Rey as the type who wouldn’t want to drink alone, so he nodded silently.

“You bought first round, so I’ll get this one," she said. "Do you want the same thing?”

He nodded again, and her hand brushed his when she started to slide out of the banquette, and Finn felt a momentary shock, almost like the sharp zing of static electricity. It was bizarre, because he’d not felt anything like that when he’d held Rey’s hand escorting her down the stairs to the Covert’s entrance, or when she’d held onto him for the second set of stairs.

Their eyes met, and Finn saw something flash in and out Rey's eyes. It was gone before he could classify what the emotion could have been or what it could have meant.

“Oh, hey, I started a tab,” said Finn, barely aware that he was speaking. “You don’t have to pay. I didn’t really get to _buy_ you dinner, remember? Just get whatever you want.” 

“Well, thank you.” She stretched delicately up on her toes, like a dancer. “I may order another basket of those Sorgan Squares, then. I’m starving all of a sudden!”

Finn watched her go, noting with a small flicker of annoyance that he wasn’t the only one in the bar marking Rey’s progress. And he grimaced when he saw Yarra beam and lean toward Rey as if Rey were awarding her the Nobel Prize in bartending.

Turning away, Finn studied the tabletop and reviewed the evening, particularly mulling Rey’s chilly remoteness earlier compared to how more at ease she seemed now—

drinking sparkly drinks, eating fried cheese, joking with him a little, touching his hand...

If was as if she’d turned into an entirely different person from the woman he’d met outside the Coruscant Circle Café who’d given him a stilted introduction and a half-hearted handshake.

But _kidnapped_?

He brooded over the word for the next several minutes. Rey didn’t sound like she was joking, and “kidnapped” was something that could be used euphemistically to mean something else. It had a pretty standard, straightforward definition, in fact. Still, Finn couldn’t quite accept it as reality. Who actually ever got legit kidnapped? You read about kidnappings in books, or in feature-length supplements in the Sunday paper about people who’d lived and died decades earlier, maybe. And possibly in farflung, war-torn places, there were horrible things that happened. But here was a woman four years younger than he was, who had been _kidnapped_ apparently, at the age of five ...

Finn registered movement out of the corner of his eye and he moved his head. Rey was walking back with their drinks—carefully as she had one in each hand—though a bit of his beer had frothed over the side of the mug despite her caution.

“They’ll bring the Squares out to us,” she said, gently setting the glasses down before slipping back into place. “Yarra is really nice! She says you’re a good dude—not a _nice guy—_ but you can be a little uptight sometimes. She said I shouldn’t make any decisions about you until you’ve unwound a little.”

Finn smirked, eying his mug. “Well, if _this_ doesn’t do unwind me, nothing will.”

“Well, maybe. But I don’t think she meant alcohol. Actually, she mentioned that a way to relax might be by doing Pilates together.” Rey’s voice was a little uncertain. “She said it always works for her.”

Finn’s mouth fell open and he flicked his eyes sharply toward Yarra. She was busily filling orders behind the bar, but he fancied that his stare could probably have cut through that armor.

“It’s an interesting suggestion.” Rey seemed oblivious to his discomfort as she settled back into her seat. “I mean, I like Pilates ... but unless you count being in a class, I’ve just never done them with another person. Have you?”

“Uh.” He gulped a little. “Let’s just say, if we’re talking about _Yarra’s_ type of Pilates, it’s ... been awhile.”

Rey gave him a mystified glance, but seemed to understand that it wouldn't be worth her while pursuing _that_ particular conversational thread. 

“So ...” Rey took a quick sip. “Where were we?”

Finn shook away Yarra’s nonsense and tried to focus. He picked up his drink, noticing suddenly that Rey’s sparkly beverage was red this time.

“Uh, you were telling me that you’d been ...”

“... Kidnapped. Right. Blew your mind a little?”

“Maybe a little,” he acknowledged. “Poe _definitely_ did not mention anything about that, I promise you.”

She studied him. “If you had known, would you still have wanted to go out with me?”

“Well ...” Finn considered a moment. “I’d have had a lot of questions. It wouldn’t’ve been a ... disqualifier, if that’s what you’re asking, but I would probably have wanted more information.”

“That’s fair.” A slow smile lifted her lips. “More than fair—it’s _smart_. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You _are_ a medical student, after all.”

Finn innocently drank his beer. There were plenty of complete imbeciles who had “M.D.” after their names, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood.

“How much of all this do you want to know?" Her voice was bright, but brittle, like stick candy. "All of it or just the juicy stuff?” 

Finn ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. The first pull had been bitter, but this had just the right amount of tang.

“As much of it as you feel comfortable telling me,” he said quietly. “If this is something you didn’t want Poe to talk about with me, then I feel like you should set the parameters.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgment. “All right. Let’s start with some background. Breha Solo. Name ring a bell?”

Finn sounded the name silently in his head. 

“No ... should it?”

"Well, only if you were a fan of _Ren and Rey Save the Day!_ as a kid.”

He stared. “A fan of ... _what_?”

“ _Ren and Rey Save the Day!_ ”

She hummed a small tune, smiling to herself. “You know: _Two magic kids, fighting criiiiime, but always back for dinner tiiiiiiime_.”

Finn blinked. Words were being said— _sung_ , even—but he wasn’t understanding a damn thing. The beer wasn’t _that_ strong.

“No ... doesn’t sound familiar. A little retro. Definitely catchy, though.” His voice was thoughtful. “Who’s Breha Solo? Your mom?”

“Nope! Yours truly.” Rey took another sip. “I’m named after one of my grandmother’s closest friends. I never got the chance to meet her, but she was apparently very cool.”

Finn studied her with fresh eyes as he digested this little tidbit. Breha? She didn’t really _look_ like a ‘Breha’ but did anybody, really?

“I figured _Rey_ was short for something, but I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Yeah, I had a thing about the letter ‘B’ when I was starting to talk,” she said. “Namely, I couldn’t really say it. So it always sounded like I was saying ‘Rey-ah’ instead of ‘Breha.’ My father started calling me Rey, and it stuck. Same thing happened with my brother—his name’s ‘Ben’ but I kept calling him ‘Renny.’ So that got shortened to ‘Ren,’ and they kept it for the show. They thought ‘Rey and Ren’ was catchy.”

Finn began to speak, but something pinged in his head, and he gaped at her.

“Wait ... _you_ were on TV? You had _your own TV show_?”

“I’ve gotta be honest, I’m hurt you’ve never heard of it.” She pulled a mock sad face. “Okay, I’m not really, but I _am_ a little surprised. We’re practically the same age, and the show was freaking _everywhere_. Not a big fan of kiddie stuff? Or was a show with a girl lead just not your thing?”

“Uh, neither.” Finn’s gaze suddenly locked to the bottom of his mug. His eartips grew hot. “Just didn’t really get to watch TV much when I was a kid.”

“Strict parents?”

Finn glanced up quickly, and then returned to gazing at the table through the bottom of his mug.

“... Yeah. Something like that.”

There was another interval of slightly uncomfortable silence. They sipped their drinks to dispel the uneasiness.

“Well, I was a ... _child star_ ,” she continued in a somewhat begrudging voice. “The show started when I was three years old. It took off big-time almost immediately.”

“What was it about?” Finn was relieved to be off the subject of his childhood, because ... yeah. “Was it live-action? Or one of those variety things where there’s animation mixed in?”

“Oh, _very_ live action. Lots of CGI and stunts. What was it about? Hmm ... how to explain ...” She tapped her chin. “You ever watch _The Incredibles_?”

The question caught him off guard, but Finn was smiling as he answered, “Are you kidding me? Only about a _billion_ times.”

“You have good taste.” Rey smiled back. “Right, so picture a Bob and a Helen who don’t have any powers. They’re just a regular suburban couple raising their kids. Now imagine there’s a Violet and a Jack-Jack, but no Dash. Except Violet’s a boy and Jack-Jack’s a girl, and they _do_ have superpowers.”

“So, two kids instead of three ..." Finn canted his head, trying to imagine it all. "And parents are just regular people, but the kids are superheroes?”

“You got it. My brother and I played siblings who were born with superpowers, and their ‘regular’ parents try to hide their abilities from the world," said Rey. "Ren could see the future and cast realistic illusions. Rey could read minds and heal with just a touch. But because Rey was really just a toddler, she’d do things thinking she was _helping_ people, and of course it would become a mess. Ren would try to intervene, but generally I—I mean _that_ Rey—would step in and manage to put things to rights, usually making Ren look like an idiot in the process and getting him into serious trouble at home. My brother didn’t quite appreciate his role in the show.”

Finn could imagine. He didn’t think he would either, in Ben ‘Ren’ Solo’s place.

“Thinking about it now, I think they might have stolen some things from some cartoon that was on back in the 80s,” she said, “but I was three, so what did I know? Anyway, it was aimed at kids and young teens—cute, formulaic and ripe for merchandizing. There were dolls of me—well, my character. I was on a cereal box, too. Plus there was a clothing line and books _and_ a board game. There was even talk of building a ‘Ren and Rey’ playground at Funland and of doing a full-length movie. Our agents thought the movie could even turn into a franchise.

"It was nuts, but very lucrative." Rey shook her head. “I mean, if my parents weren’t already loaded, all of that would have put them over the top.”

Finn’s back suddenly felt tight.

“Uh ... loaded? As in ... with money?”

“Oh yeah. All the products associated with the show brought in money hand over fist,” she said. “My earnings from the show were put in trust for me to access when I turned 18, and we got a piece of the backend from all the merch. That was put in a separate account. But my parents were already in the one percent, so they didn’t need to touch it. It’s still there—and more, because of interest and all.”

Another masked, caped member of the waitstaff sauntered up with their second order of Sorgan Squares. Rey eagerly grabbed for one, wincing and blowing on her fingertips as she transferred one of the steaming-hot snacks to her plate and blew on it rather comically before diving in.

Finn didn't make a move toward the replenished snacks. He was too busy trying to get his head wrapped around the idea that he was on a date with a girl who had been a child TV star and had been kidnapped, _and_ came from a family flush with cash.

He gave an internal shrug. Sure, why not? All things considered, this all might as well happen.

“Was it weird becoming famous, then?” Finn asked, finally taking a Sorgan Square, but using more care than Rey had. “I mean, was your family pretty low-key ... despite their, uh, money and all ... before you and your brother got on television?”

Rey, who had been cheerfully munching, gave him an odd look.

“Low- _key_? You know Solo Motors, right?”

“Solo Motors? Yeah, sure I do.” Finn felt a sudden chill, and his eyes narrowed. “Wait ... what exactly do you mean by _know_?”

“I mean, you know that it exists and what sort of company it is?”

“Oh. Sure.” His shoulders relaxed. “It manufactures high-performance modcars for the big races like the Boonta 500 and the Coruscant Prix. Huge multinational. One of the biggest employers in the region, I think ...”

Finn broke off, feeling a bit self-conscious. He felt that he was sounding a bit like a commercial and he was dimly aware that he _might_ be showing off—just a tad.

“Solo Motors pops up now and again in my life, though not in a huge way,” he sought to explain. “Poe works there. And Rose’s sister Paige used to be there, too, but she’s gone freelance. She consults for them, though, every now and again.”

A smile of satisfied malice crossed Rey’s face.

“Yeah, my brother nearly hit the ceiling when our mom promoted Poe to VP of design. But when Ben got the big chair, he didn’t make any changes. The design team would have had a fit, for one, and for another, Ben knew Poe had earned it. And we really miss Paige. It must be amazing being her own boss, but I really hope she comes back full time someday. She’s a flipping genius at R&D.”

Finn gawked, the various bits of information snapping together in his brain like Tetris pieces.

Poe.

A family friend.

Knowing Paige.

Solo Motors.

 _Solo_?

_Rey Solo._

His eyes went wide as he blurted, “You mean it’s Solo, like a last name, and not Solo like ‘Only Motors’?”

Rey gazed at him for a moment, and then tilted her head back and gave a braying laugh that nearly shook the table.

Finn’s face burned at her laughter, but somewhere in the part of his mind that wasn’t cringing at feeling slightly humiliated, he had the thought Rey was in that minority of people who could look lovely even doing a full-faced horse laugh.

“W-wait ... you t-thought ...?” Her head snapped back down, and her shoulders shook with mirth. “ _Only Motors?_ Oh ... my ... _god_...”

Rey’s face was flushed and her cheeks wet. Her eyes glittered and a few residual snickers escaped as she tried to get herself together.

“I can’t believe it! You _really_ didn’t know that Solo Motors was ... and that _I_ was ... _you_ know ...”

“Poe’s boss’s daughter?” Finn poked at his Sorgan Square as if he wanted to push it off the table. “Yeah, no, I didn’t. But I gotta be honest—that intel would have been nice to have.”

“Well, that wouldn’t have been accurate. At least, not anymore.” The laughter was gone and her voice was suddenly tart. “I’m the boss’s _sister_. In a few more years, I’ll be half the boss.”

The corners of her mouth bent upward into a somewhat sad smile at his questioning look.

“My father died when I was 19—three years ago—and my mother took over the business,” she said. “And then she passed away suddenly last year. My brother is the CEO of Solo Motors until I turn 25 and come into my half of our parents’ estate. Then we’ll each have an equal stake in the company.”

Finn’s stomach felt hollow. The night felt like being on one of those old wooden rollercoasters. Lurching to a stop at the crest, then stomach-churning drops, and then very, very fleeting moments of calm and almost _fun_ before the next drop.

“I’m sorry about your folks. Losing both of them in such a short space of time ... that had to be rough.”

His expression was solemn, and she returned a slight nod. They went back to their Sorgan Squares and drinks for a time, each lost in thought.

“So, Solo Motors,” asked Finn when he’d judged that a respectable period of quiet had passed. “Nice. Is this a longtime family business then?”

“Nope. It was all my dad. He didn’t have any family—I mean, before he met my mother and started his own. Built the whole company from the ground up.”

“Was he just really into cars or did he like racing a lot? Or both? Or neither, for that matter.” Finn’s voice was curious. “I suppose you don’t have to be into the modcar scene to get into the business.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “If you’re going to tell me that you don’t know who Han Solo is, I’m going to have to call bullshit. I mean, not to brag, but he _was_ one of the, quote-unquote, _gods of modern modcar racing_. He won just about every big title out there.”

Finn could have bitten off his tongue. Of course. Of _fucking course._ Of fucking _course_ that in a city full of Solos, including one that was in his cohort and he was _quite_ sure was no relation to Rey, _she_ had to be the daughter of the most famous Solo maybe ... _ever_. Because the night couldn’t get any more bizarre.

“ _Oh._ Sure. _That_ Han Solo.”

“Uh huh.” Rey looked amused again. “ _That_ one.”

But Finn felt a bit foolish and annoyed that he’d not made the connection earlier of Solo Motors with Rey, considering that Poe was a freaking exec there with a corner office. _Family friend_ indeed!

Still, it was another shock. Han Solo was indeed a “god of the modern modcar,” emerging from the dust of the backwoods racing culture of Corellia Flats to ascend the ranks to stand among such storied names as Rri Tarshan and Doona Ferthi, both of the Mirilian Province, and Solo’s greatest rival—and somewhat paradoxically—his closest friend, Lando Calrissian of the Socorro Highlands. Han Solo was just one of those names that _everyone_ knew—sort of like Din Djarin or Beyonce—even if they weren’t modcar fans. 

“I’m not really into the circuit too heavy. You know, the way Poe and Tam are,” said Finn somewhat defensively, trying to tamp down on the irritation he felt about being so slow to connect the dots. “I’m cool with driving when I need to, but souped-up cars going really fast on winding obstacle courses for hours has never been my thing. But yes ... I _do_ know enough about your dad to know that he was a huge-ass deal as a racer, but I didn’t know really anything about his personal life or his business ventures off the track. Probably if someone held a gun to my head, I couldn’t have even said if Han Solo was married or had any kids. And Poe never mentioned that he was working for _him_. _That_ I would have remembered, because that’s pretty damn cool.”

“Well ... I guess that makes sense,” said Rey, appearing to shrug the matter aside. “Aside from racing, Dad liked to keep a kind of a low profile. Five or so years ago, he sort of handed the reins of the business to my mother for a while to try to start up his own modcar racing league in the Pasaana Valley with my Uncle Lando. It ... didn’t work out too well, unfortunately. So Poe only got to work with him for about a year before he died. Then my mother took over again.”

Finn was able to discern that this all occurred his first year in Coruscant Circle, where he’d had the narrowest of tunnel vision, attempting to get his footing and settle into the rigors of medical school. He felt slightly better at having been not particularly quick on the uptake in that regard. Poe probably could have told him he was secretly a flesh-eating creature, and Finn likely would have just nodded absently and gone back to his gross anatomy flashcards.

She spun the stirrer in her glass. “How about Anakin Skywalker? You do know about _him,_ I suppose?”

Finn assumed that was a joke, but a sudden burst of discordant techno music scrambled his thoughts for a moment.

“Well, I _did_ fly into the Skywalker International Airport when I moved here,” he said with a wry grin when the music died down. “And I walk through the Padme Naberrie-Skywalker Pavilion each day on my way to classes, so yeah ... I’m definitely familiar with _that_ name.”

Rey’s expression turned dreamy. “My grandmother dedicated the Pavilion as a thank you to Coruscant Circle University Hospital. She nearly died giving birth to my uncle and mother, but the quick thinking and great doctors there saved all three of them. When Poe told me that’s where you were studying, I couldn’t help but be incredibly impressed. You can't be a slouch and get into _there_ for medical school.”

The compliment barely registered among the onrush of _that_ little bombshell. Finn’s brain had just finished metabolizing the ‘Solo’ part of the equation, and now—

“You’re a _Skywalker_?” His voice was barely audible. “You? Actually one of _the_ Skywalkers?”

“Yep. Me.” She nodded. “Actually one of _the._ ”

Finn gaped. A Skywalker? One of _those_ Skywalkers, who’d practically built modern-day Coruscant Circle? Who’d been incredible philanthropists? _Skywalker_ ... one of the most famous names in the entire fucking known universe? Rey was one of them, along with being a freaking _Solo_ , too? What next, was she going to admit to being part unicorn? Or distantly related to Santa Claus on her father's cousin's sister's side?

And Poe had told him not _one word_ about any of it? Even a _“FYI, buddy, the girl you’re going out with is Coruscant Circle royalty. Easy on the garlic. Enjoy!”_ would have worked.

But despite feeling completely flatfooted, Finn was conscious of a sense of awe. Anakin Skywalker was a legitimate legend. A real rags to riches story, rising from obscurity in some backwater desert town, distinguishing himself in a brutal war, and then becoming one of the great philanthropists of all time. He’d become something of a recluse in his later years, retreating to a fortress-like compound with his wife, who retired from politics, some said, to nurse her husband in some unspecified illness, to which he succumbed at much too young an age. Finn now recalled from his contemporary history classes in high school that before his illness had become serious, Anakin and Padme Skywalker had been the parents to a set of twins. There had been no further details, at least not in those classes, but Finn had never played out the string to wonder what had become of the Skywalker children. Children, who—he did a quick calculation—had to be in their earlyish 50s now.

Well, _had been_ in their earlyish 50s. Rey had said her mother had died the year prior, and Finn suddenly remembered that the year before that, the newspapers had breathlessly reported on the death of Luke Skywalker, the only son of Anakin and Padme Skywalker. He'd been found unresponsive in his home in the remote Ahch-To Falls—allegedly a victim of the same sort of “mysterious illness” that had cut down his father in his prime.

Rey took a quick sip from her drink, looking up at him from under lowered lashes.

“You’re awfully quiet. Did I lose you?”

“Uh, no. Just processing. Making sure I have this all right.” Finn cleared his throat. “I mean ... you’re part of one of the most famous families in history ... _and_ one of the richest. On _both_ sides.”

“Accurate.” She punctuated the word with a crunch, licking sauce from the corners of her mouth. “Well, mainly. Like I said, l have the residuals from the show and the merchandizing agreement in trust and I get that and the bulk of my inheritance in three more years. My brother is responsible for me until then. I have to admit he’s ... generous. Mostly.” The last part was mumbled.

He noted the sudden dark look on her face and decided not to press the point.

“ _And_ you had a tv show ... _and_ you were kidnapped.”

“True and true.”

Finn looked swiftly over his shoulder, half-expecting to be caught in the flashbulbs of skulking paparazzi. He met the puzzled eyes of a shaved-head guy in a somewhat tight sweater, but other than that, no one was even looking their way. People—men mainly—had eyed Rey on her trip to the bar, but it was the regular oily leer of horny douchebags, not anything deeper. They were being treated like just any other couple in the bar, having drinks and snacks amid the cold lights and somewhat carefully curated music.

He turned back to Rey somewhat apprehensively. 

“Wow.” He swallowed hard. “ _Wow_.”

“I know. It’s a lot.” Rey regarded him with sympathy. “You all right?”

“Sure.” Finn forced cheerfulness into his voice. “You know what, though? I hope you’re convinced now. Obviously, Poe didn’t tell me _shit_.”

Rey laughed again, tilting her drink in Finn’s direction in a toasting gesture.

“I know that ‘my bad’ doesn’t even begin to cover this level of screwing up, so maybe we can start over again? Or try? I’ll go first.”

She stitched a look of polite earnestness onto her face while stretching her free hand across the table toward him. Finn blinked in surprise. It was almost like there was a completely different person sitting across from him than there had been the entire night. Only the soft glint in her eyes told him differently.

“Hi, I’m Breha Jyn Skywalker Solo. People call me Rey.”

Finn looked down at the hand for a few seconds before grasping it. There was no spark this time when their fingers touched, but he was aware of the warm softness of her palm against his, and he found his mouth bizarrely dry, despite the beer he'd been swilling.

"Hi, Rey. Finn Storm." Finn bit into his bottom lip to stem the urge to laugh. "So ..."

"So ..." Rey still held his hand. Then she released it, giving him a knowing look. "Pilates means something other than 'Pilates' doesn't it?"

"Damn, this is probably the best beer I've had in a minute," said Finn, in an overloud voice, his face burning. He was going to troll the _fuck_ out of Yarra the next time they were both online for getting him into this predicament. "How are you liking your drink?"

But Rey was laughing again, and soon Finn was, too, though his mind was whirling. Part of the mystery behind Rey had been solved, but the biggest one still lay out there like an unexploded bomb.

Kidnapped? _Kidnapped_?


End file.
